


All I Know

by insanityscars



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Drunk proposing, Feels?, M/M, VictUuri, World Grand Prix, Yuri, drunk Yuri, feels., proposal, victor nikiforov - Freeform, viktor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8803660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanityscars/pseuds/insanityscars
Summary: In which Yuri gets a little too drunk and Viktor crushes a little too hard.





	

The Grand Prix’s after party hadn’t exactly gone according to plan—at least, not for Viktor. He didn’t exactly want a repeat of the previous year’s festivities, despite it being the most fun he’d had off the ice in years. So Viktor dedicated himself to keeping a close eye on Yuri and monitoring his alcohol intake. It wasn’t hard to spot him—pretty much everyone crowded around Yuri thanks to his victory earlier that day—and he barely had a chance to get close to the refreshments table. He managed three glasses of champagne in one and a half hours which, Viktor was pleased to say, didn’t put him anywhere near drunk.

When Viktor was whisked away to dance with a slightly tipsy, incredibly giggly Minako, the crowd around Yuri thinned and he was able to snag a couple more drinks without Viktor noticing. Forty-five minutes later a heavily intoxicated Yuri was taking Viktor by the hand and pulling him out to a clear area of the floor.

“How many drinks did you take?” Viktor asked, laughing as Yuri twirled him and pulled him back to his chest.

“One or two. . .or ten,” Yuri giggled, dipping Viktor.

“I’m taking you back to the hotel! You’re not having another round of dirty dancing with Chris!” Viktor stood up, only for Yuri to pull him back against his chest.

“Did you want to join?” Yuri asked, cocking his head and biting his lip. Viktor stared down at the younger skater, almost tempted to agree. Then he saw Chris, drunk of his head and partway through removing his shirt, and changed his mind.

“Eh, no.” He gave Yuri a loving smile then whisked him away from the other skaters and towards the exit. A series of whoops and catcalls followed the pair out of the room and into the chilled air outside.  
Viktor laced his fingers through Yuri’s to keep him from wandering and started off in the direction of the hotel. Yuri kept pace with Viktor and leant his head on the Russian skater’s shoulder. Viktor could feel Yuri breathing, felt Yuri’s heartbeat against his arm. Viktor closed his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose.

“You looked sad,” Yuri said softly.

“Huh?” Viktor turned his head to look down at Yuri.

“Last year. You looked sad. The day after the party, when I left.”

Viktor turned his head so he was facing forward. He tried for a few moments to find the right words. “I. . . I had so much fun that night, and then you just brushed me aside like it meant nothing.” Viktor bit his lip and looked back at Yuri, who had stopped walking.

Yuri reached out, curled his fingers beneath Viktor’s chin, put his thumb on his lip and tilted Viktor’s head down slightly so he was looking into Yuri’s eyes. Yuri looked up at Viktor from half-lidded eyes and murmured, “Viktor, dear, you know I don’t remember a moment of that night.”

Viktor stuttered, a blush spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Yuri grinned dazedly and lowered his hand, dropping his head back onto Viktor’s shoulder and starting to walk again. Viktor started and followed suit, keeping his fingers tightly woven through Yuri’s.

The chill had gotten to Viktor by the time they reached the hotel, prickling his skin and raising goosebumps beneath his sleeves, and Yuri had started to shiver. As soon as they entered the lobby Yuri started tugging on Viktor’s hand, pulling him towards the elevator. After the doors closed behind them, Yuri threw his arms around Viktor and rested his head in the crook of Viktor’s neck.

“Thank you for choosing me,” Yuri murmured into Viktor’s neck. Viktor looked down at him, surprised, and wrapped his arms around Yuri.

“I fell in love with you, wearing that suit,” Viktor replied, a sad smile on his face. Yuri shifted slightly, then his lips were pressed against Viktor’s, arms around his coach’s neck. Viktor hesitated, then lifted a hand to cup Yuri’s cheek. He closed his eyes, tilted his head slightly.

When the elevator doors opened Yuri pulled back, ducking his head and chuckling. He all but danced out into the hallway and practically threw himself against the door.

“Yuri, no!” Viktor cried, grabbing Yuri’s wrist and dragging him away. “That’s not our room,” he hissed, bolting down the hallway just as the door opened behind them. Viktor fished a key from his pocket and opened the door, practically threw Yuri inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

Viktor and Yuri looked at each other before they both burst out laughing. Viktor stepped away from the door and ran a hand through his hair. “That was thrilling,” he said, unbuttoning his vest and tossing it across the living room. It landed on the back of a chair and slipped to the floor.

“Why is your gold medal here?” Yuri asked, lifting the medal. He was standing by the window in nothing but his boxers, tie hanging loosely around his neck, and his clothes were scattered across the floor.

“That’s your gold medal,” Viktor replied, hopping up onto the table. He leant back on his hands and watched in amusement as Yuri examined the medal. He eventually nodded and placed it back on the shelf.

“So I won the Grand Prix which you coached me for which means you’re a great coach which means you helped me which means you don’t need to coach me anymore.”

“So you don’t want me to be your coach anymore?” Viktor asked, smirking softly.

“No, don’t leave!” Yuri cried, scrambling across the room. He fell against the table and Viktor laughed, taking hold of Yuri’s arms to straighten him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Viktor said softly, leaning forward so he was only inches away from Yuri. Yuri smiled and stepped back. He slid across the floor, socks sliding on the polished surface. Yuri grinned and pushed himself forward, skating around the room. He jumped, even throwing in a little twirl before landing and skating on.

Viktor’s eyes lit up at the sight of Yuri gliding across the floor. He moved to no music, and was nowhere near as elegant nor graceful as he had been on the ice earlier that day, but he was so happy, so much like the man Viktor had fallen head-over-heels for the previous year.

Yuri appeared to be skating some mixed version of his short program and his free skate. He was mumbling something incoherently, but Viktor didn’t mind. He just smiled and watched the dark-haired skater glide across the floor. Yuri jumped, making some drunken attempt at a quadruple flip, and tripped as he landed, feet flying out from under him.

In a second Viktor was across the room, hand wrapped around Yuri’s wrist, holding him up. He tugged on Yuri’s arm and pulled him up to his chest. Yuri blinked, then offered a lazy smile. “I love you,” he said softly, kissing Viktor again. The kiss was gentle and brief. Yuri leaned back, pressing his palms against Viktor’s collarbone, and slurred out something along the lines of, ‘Will you marry me?’

Viktor chuckled, brushed some of Yuri’s hair out of his face. “Ask me again when you’re sober," he said, pressing his lips gently against Yuri’s forehead. Yuri nodded, tucking his head into the crook of Viktor’s neck, and let out a yawn. Viktor smiled warmly and lead Yuri in the direction of the bedroom. He waited by the door until Yuri had fallen asleep before moving to the kitchen and pouring himself a drink of whatever-the-hell-is-in-the-fridge. Viktor dropped into a chair, eyes wandering to his bag. He sighed, downed the rest of his glass and shed the remaining layers he was wearing before passing out in his own bed.

Viktor woke long before Yuri and set to work making breakfast. Yuri’s victory the day before was the only thing on TV so Viktor turned to his phone. He had several texts from the other coaches and competitors, mostly congratulations for Yuri on his win. Chris had sent him some photos of the partygoers, ranging from tipsy to wasted, and Yuri—Plisetsky, that is—had emailed through some photos of Viktor and Yuri— _his_ Yuri—from the night before.

Not ten minutes later, Yuri walked into the living room, blanket wrapped around him despite the clearly visible clothing underneath. Viktor handed Yuri the phone and poured him a glass of water. He handed the water and a pack of painkillers to Yuri who took them gratefully.

“We danced?” he asked after downing half his glass.

“You were drunk,” Viktor replied, sinking into the couch.

“Figured. Did I do anything embarrassing?” Yuri leant on the back of the sofa so he was at eye-level with Viktor.

“I pulled you out before Chris could take off his shirt.”

“Thank you. You want breakfast?”

“I’ve already eaten. Now eat quickly, I want to show you something.” Viktor stood and stretched, then walked into the bedroom. He came out a few minutes later in the least rumpled shirt and pants he owned. Viktor tossed Yuri a coat and pulled on his own.

“Come on, lazybones!” he teased as Yuri buttoned the coat, half a slice of toast clenched between his teeth.

Viktor shouldered his bag and slipped out the door with a flirtatious smile, closing the door behind him. He was halfway down the road by the time Yuri caught up to him, crumbs still peppering his mouth.

“There you are. I thought I’d have to go back and get you.” Viktor brushed the crumbs from around Yuri’s mouth and took him by the hand, just like he had the night before. Yuri didn’t rest his head on Viktor’s shoulder this time, though, but that was okay.

The pair wandered along the bank of the El Llobregat River, hand-in-hand, until Viktor decided he needed more food and the pair ducked into a marketplace.

“It’s more beautiful at night, don’t you think?” Yuri asked, wandering between the stalls.

“Much,” Viktor agreed, “though it doesn’t look half-bad in the light.” He tugged on Yuri’s sleeve and pulled him in the direction of a vendor, who was nothing but pleased to serve them. Viktor insisted on paying for the both of them and Yuri somewhat-reluctantly agreed.

The food, the warmest thing either of them had eaten since the finals, was far more filling than anything the pair had eaten that day, and before long they were both ready to go back to sleep. Viktor insisted on them walking just a bit further, and when they rounded a bend in the river the pair stumbled upon a park, of sorts. Yuri crossed the park and slumped into a wooden bench. He pulled his coat tighter about himself and tipped his head back. Viktor sat beside Yuri and smiled when the younger man rested his head on Viktor’s shoulder.

“Now what?” Yuri asked softly.

“I don’t know. I mean, you’ll have to pay off the coaching fees. . .but after that? I’m not sure.”

“Mm,” Yuri murmured, twirling his ring absently. He didn’t speak for a while, and was so quiet and calm that Viktor thought he’d fallen asleep. After a minute, though, Yuri shifted slightly and sighed. “So, I guess I go back to Japan. And you’ll stay here? I mean, go back to your city?”

“I guess,” Viktor replied absently. He looked out across the river, following boats and people with his eyes. “I just. . .”

“Just what?” Yuri asked, looking up at Viktor. He glanced down at his watch and clicked his tongue in distaste. “We should head back,” Yuri said after a moment. “It’ll take us a while to get there and we need to pack for tomorrow.”

Yuri stood and started to walk away when a hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him. “Yuri—!” Viktor choked out. He had his head down, fringe covering his face. His voice was shaking. “Yuri, I. . .I don’t know many things. I don’t know what if I’m going to keep coaching, or go back to competing. I don’t even know if I’m going to keep skating.”

“Viktor,” Yuri started, turning to face his coach, but Viktor waved him down.

Viktor’s shoulders shook a little and his hands were shaking madly. He didn’t let go of Yuri’s wrist. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t know if you want me to stick around. I don’t know if you even enjoy having me around. You asked me something last night that gave me hope but I don’t even know if you meant it.” Viktor inhaled sharply, released Yuri’s hand and lifted his head. There was none of his usual flair, no cocky grin. “All I know,” he said softly, “is that whatever I do, I want to do it with you.”

Yuri’s hand flew to his mouth as Viktor sunk to one knee and retrieved from his pocket a small back box lined with red velvet. In the centre of the box was a gold band, inlaid with two small black diamonds, one on either side of a larger, clear diamond. “Yuri,” Viktor said, voice shaking, “will you be mine?”

Yuri didn’t move, and Viktor released the breath he had been holding. _You screwed up,_ he scolded himself. _He got drunk and left you before and you expected him not to do the same thing this time around?_

Viktor cast his eyes down and went to stand, but before he could, Yuri’s arms were around him, his forehead on Viktor’s shoulder, and he was stuttering out, “Yes, yes, Viktor, God yes.” Viktor froze in shock, then he moved his hands to encircle Yuri. It was Viktor’s turn to rest his head in the crook of his partner’s neck. He drew back, rested his forehead against Yuri’s and, hands shaking, slid the ring onto Yuri’s finger. Yuri looked down at it, then he looked into Viktor’s eyes, a pale blush creeping over his nose and cheeks.

Viktor reached up hesitantly and cupped Yuri’s cheek. He leaned forward, and so did Yuri, and then their lips were touching, and the cold couldn’t touch them.

In that moment, neither of them knew what was going to happen. Yuri didn’t know if he’d return for another year. Viktor didn’t know if he’d go back to competing. Neither of them knew what was going to happen next. All they knew was that everything would work out. One way or another, everything would be okay. And in that one moment, that one tiny blip in all time and space, that was enough.


End file.
